datewitha38

*Ahem*


The writing on the wall
Of the dirty bathroom stall
Differs from the residence hall,
Where you hear your backpack call:
Pick me up! Your grades cant fall!

In different parts of Dirty Jerz,
On bathroom walls there will be words,
Which are written, but rarely heard,
By the roaming, shitting herds.

In the Edgewater Barnes and Noble,
Republicans are 333 levels
Lower than child molesters.

Written directly below,
In different colored ink and script,
Someone responds with
Who decides the levels?

To the left of this debate,
Someone filled with political hate:
Giuliani is the new Third Reich.

What began as my bowels calling
Turned into rhymes that are now falling.
Im stalling.
Stalling.
Stalling.

While the degenerate scribbles fuck on the door
Someone else writes of how he wants more
Out of life, while sitting on the can in a Turnpike
Rest stop, praying that his veins dont pop,
Cuz then the poor janitor will have to clean it up.

The Hoboken train station has a john
Hundreds in and out every day, on and on.
Shit on.
Spit on.
Pissed on.

The middle of the night brings a crew to spray it down.
But the walls are ignored, the men bored and dont make a sound,
Cept for the *slop* of a mop on the ground.
No, the walls of the toilets have a personality
Markered, scratched on, etched in, by the likes of you and me.